


What's Mine is Yours

by i_write_shakespeare_not_disney



Series: Angsty/Fluffy/Smutty Klance One Shots from Tumblr [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender, vld - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Character Death, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate- Can Feel When the Other is Hurt, Soulmates, Tumblr Prompt, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 00:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_shakespeare_not_disney/pseuds/i_write_shakespeare_not_disney
Summary: Keith never believed in soulmates until he felt the pain of a broken arm that wasn't his. Years later, he meets his soulmate in an unlikely person and realizes he's the luckiest person in the universe. But the universe is never kind forever.





	1. I Should Tell You

The world had never been kind, and it seemed that the universe wasn’t either. When Keith turned 16, he began to feel the strange, faded sensation of pain that wasn’t his. It was hard to explain, really. The pain could be strong, but it was dull at the same time. As intense as the pain could be, it had a slow build and a slow fade which was what told him it wasn’t really his pain even if it felt like it was.

The first time he’d felt it, it had been a sharp pain in his arm that built slowly until it seeped deep into his bone. He could feel the sting of bones tearing through muscle and skin, but his arm was very much intact. That didn’t keep Keith from letting loose a string of curses and fighting the tears that prickled in his eyes.

He’d never believed the stories. Well, he had once, but when he failed to feel any random pain, he figured maybe it was because he didn’t have a soulmate. When he was about 13, he figured maybe it was because he didn’t work like other soulmates. He wasn’t into girls, so maybe he was excluded from the soulmate pact of feeling the other’s pain. When he first fell for someone at the age of fifteen and had his heart broken, he figured maybe it was all just bullshit. There was no such thing as a soulmate.

And yet there he was, sixteen, feeling the agony of a broken arm when his arm was perfectly fine.

He’d felt more pain after that, and had given his soulmate a fair share as well. Sprained ankles, fist fights, one time his soulmate came down with a flu which came at the worst possible time for Keith, and not to mention the stubbed toes. It wasn’t until one day when Keith felt a pain sprouting up slowly along his arm until it morphed into the uncomfortable feeling of an arm being twisted just enough to make someone stop moving.

Another fight?

Then the sharp scrape of something digging into his skin. It felt so deep, so precise, that Keith knew it wasn’t just a scrape. Someone was cutting his soulmate. Keith grabbed a marker and traced along the pain that sprouted on his skin.

_Wetback._

Keith stared at the word he’d written in shaky, smeared black ink. He felt a flare of anger at these strangers, these people with no faces who were hurting… well someone Keith didn’t know, but who was his soulmate regardless. And who the hell carved something like that into a person’s skin? Was his soulmate crying? Screaming for help? Were they holding back their tears? Were they fighting back?

Keith spent a long time wishing there was a way he could communicate with his soulmate after that.

When he was admitted into the Garrison, Keith found that his soulmate seemed to have a habit of getting into fights. He just wasn’t sure if they began because of his soulmate or if a lot of people just seemed to have it out for them.

The second year he was in the Garrison, there were less moments of sudden pain. It had dwindled down to a few stubbed toes and the occasional pinch on the arm.

It wasn’t until Keith had found himself on a ship, far out in space, with three strangers, two aliens, and Shiro that Keith had even remembered he was supposed to have a soulmate. They’d been given their bayards and while Keith inspected his own, he felt a wave of electrifying shocks spread through his body, making him wince. At the same time, he turned to see Lance on the ground with Pidge standing over him with a smirk.

“Yeah, cute,” she chuckled, powering her bayard off.

Still, it wasn’t until Keith had gone to the Blade of Marmora base with Shiro and returned to the ship that he’d felt absolutely positive. When he’d returned, Lance was holding his side where a blade had managed to slice Keith’s skin. For a moment, Keith just stared at him until Lance noticed he was back.

His eyes had gone wide as his fingers touched the apple of his cheek where Keith knew he had a swelling bruise. Keith had left without another word. He had more to worry about than a soulmate.

As the months went on, Keith found himself growing fonder of their goofball, loverboy, sharpshooter. He had become Keith’s stability. His voice of reason. Lance had become someone Keith needed in his life.

Then one night, when Keith couldn’t sleep, he’d decided to take a walk around the castle. He’d run into Lance who was staring out at the stars with a blanket wrapped around him.

“Lance?” He noticed Lance wiping his face before turning slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just… thinking of home.” Keith frowned and sat beside him. “I just…. I know I try not to think of it too much, but… I just need a moment to let myself feel homesick.”

“So that’s what that is,” Keith huffed, taking a deep breath. “No wonder I couldn’t sleep.”

“What?”

“I just… felt weird. I couldn’t sleep. I guess physical pain isn’t the only thing we share.” Keith bit his lip as he waited for a reaction. They’d never really spoken about the connection between the two of them. They’d always danced around it, both pretending like they didn’t know.

Then Lance laughed and pulled his knees up to his chest. “So you caught on too, huh? I was starting to think it was just me.”

Keith shook his head and looked out at the expanse of stars. “I just never really knew how to bring it up. I mean, you weren’t really fond of me to begin with, and I was supposed to believe we’re….”

“Soulmates,” they said together. They looked at each other and burst into laughter, both blushing.

“The first time I felt you, you’d broken an arm.”

“I remember that. The one time I’ve ever broken my arm. I was racing my sister, climbing a tree in the park. I was fifteen,” Lance said. He looked at Keith and smiled. “The first time I felt you, you’d gotten in a fight. I only felt it in my hands and a hit in the stomach. I take it you won.”

“I’ve been in two actual fist fights in my life, so you’re either talking about the time I got called a fag in school or the time I got in a fight with my first and only boyfriend. He’d broken up with me for something stupid so I sort of lost it…. I won both, so….” Lance frowned and looked away. “You got in a lot of fights. Can I ask about one?”

“Sure.”

“They hurt you. Wrote something into your skin. I traced it out on mine.”

Lance grimaced and grabbed his forearm. “Yeah, I remember. I’d just come to the States from Cuba. My English was… rocky. But I was smart in math. I got bullied for it a lot. Until I got admitted to the Garrison. I got to start over. My English was better. I wasn’t just the boy from Cuba, I was… a pilot.”

Keith bit his lip and reached out hesitantly to touch his shoulder. Lance looked at him and smiled. “I’m not that great at comforting people.”

“Hugs work.” Lance opened his arms, expanding the blanket in his arms. Keith smiled and shuffled forward, wrapping his arms around him as Lance brought the blanket down around them both. They didn’t talk much after that. They simply looked out at the stars, until they fell asleep on the floor.

After that, they found themselves working together much easier. Lance was like an extension of himself, something Keith knew and understood. But it wasn’t until the day that the team nearly died that anything changed.

Keith had gone with the Blade, and Voltron had been trapped at the hands of Haggar. They would suffocate and die if something didn’t breach that stupid barrier. His soulmate was there. His family- Shiro, Pidge, Hunk, and Allura. Pidge had just found her brother. They deserved more time together. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. Not for Keith.

But then, Lotor of all possibilities had come and saved the day. By the time everyone had gathered on the castle ship to figure out what to do about Lotor and his sudden change in morals, Matt had told the team what Keith had planned to do.

Horrified, they’d gone to see him, making sure he was okay, making sure he was sane, lectured him, and hugged him. Except for Lance. Lance had stood there, face blank, and absolutely still. Keith felt something uncomfortable bloom in his chest as he pulled him aside to get a reaction out of him. Before he could even say anything, Lance took a sharp breath and gripped his shoulders.

“What were you thinking? Why would you-? You-” He kept stammering over his words, but before Keith could calm him down, Lance cupped his face and kissed him.

Everything else had stopped. It had melted away. The second Lance’s lips brushed against his own, he felt like he had been renewed. He felt invincible. Nothing could ever hurt him again.

As they pulled apart, he found tears streaming down Lance’s cheeks, his eyes brighter than ever. His fingers trembled against Keith’s cheeks.

“Please don’t ever do something like that again.”

Keith could only manage a weak nod.

Ever since then, they’d been nearly inseparable. Keith remained with Voltron acting as a messenger for the Blade, training weekly as he updated them. It was a little rocky at first because Keith was so unused to relationships in general and Lance was a very touch-based person whereas Keith was very talk-based.

Lance tended to search for hugs, for hand-holding, for light touches, and any other form of human contact as reassurance. He used touch as a way to express himself. Keith on the other hand preferred to just be told. He wasn’t good at picking up on signals and he needed to simply be told when Lance needed something, when Lance was upset, just like he did with Lance. Keith was very to-the-point when it came to communicating with Lance whether they were arguing or trying to have a moment. It drove Lance crazy because he needed build-up, understanding of every explanation and outside factor and Keith didn’t understand why plain and simple wasn’t enough. What was the point of why’s and where’s and how come’s?

Eventually though, they found a bit of a compromise. Lance began to ask permission to touch Keith if it was a random urge, which later turned into simply letting him know. And Keith began to incorporate explanations before Lance could ask for them and offer the touch reassurances he knew Lance needed in order to keep from reading into things. Arguments dwindled, and they were able to work together much better.

The wonderful part was that despite how used to each other they were, there were still moments when Lance surprised Keith. Moments when he sort of stepped back and had to think, _Whoa. This guy is actually my soulmate._ Like the battle they’d had on a planet named Draxa.

There, the children had been taken to a special bunker to keep them from the rest of the war. A platoon of Galra soldiers had targeted it and planned to ambush it. Lance had left his lion and gone to fend them off all on his own. When the battle had ended, he’d gone to every single child to make sure they were okay, to comfort them if they were frightened. They all stared at him, this real-life hero right in front of them that had saved their lives.

That was the day Keith realized he was in love.

Kissing Lance was one of Keith’s favorite things. They kissed every morning, every night before getting into bed, every time before a battle even if they were mid-argument, and each time after a battle. There were times when Lance randomly told him, “Hey, I’m gonna kiss you now,” and Keith enjoyed those too.

But not as much as the ones he expected.

In those routine kisses, he knew and craved the touches he would receive. The fingers raking through his hair, the warmth of a hand pressed to the small of his back, the fingers ghosting over his cheek. He knew he should expect touches and those were the only times Lance didn’t have to let him know a touch was coming. And he loved touching Lance. He loved feeling the soft but quick thump of his heart by pressing a hand to his chest, he loved feeling how warm his dark skin was just under the hem of his shirt, he loved hearing his breath hitch each time Keith dug the pads of his fingers lightly into the nape of his neck, loved kissing him until Lance’s lips were slightly swollen, his cheeks flushed, and his breaths short.

Although his absolute favorite thing about Lance were his eyes. How he’d give Keith the softest look just before falling asleep, the desperation in them when they reached each other after a battle and knew exactly where the other was hurt, the lazy daze after waking up or after kissing, the focus when they trained together. He even loved his eyes when they were dark and stormy during an argument. But Keith would never forget the passion, adoration, honesty, and fervor in his voice and eyes when he first told Keith the words, “I’m ridiculously in love with you, Keith.”

 


	2. Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is when things get angsty and the violence is depicted. You've been warned.

It was coming to an end. Everything was almost over. They would go home. And yet, something about this final mission felt… wrong.

Keith could tell that everyone felt it. Every rebel, every Blade member, and each member of Voltron. This final plan was a risk. It would end this war, no doubt about that. But in who’s favor?

“Everyone realizes that… a lot of us could die, right?” Pidge said.

“There’s nothing else we can do. Voltron has gotten stronger, but so has Zarkon. His forces are stronger than ever. His witch is creating armies of ruthless monsters. We need to put an end to it,” the newest Blade leader, Floxrek, said. He’d taken over after Kolivan died on a mission a few months before. “We’ve played it too safe.”

“This plan will go one of two ways,” Pidge continued, clenching her fists. “We either get killed and end up handing Voltron over to Zarkon, or we win and lose hundreds of fighters.”

“That number remains the same if not lower than it would be if we continue these meager battles,” Floxrek snapped.

Keith noticed Lance take a small step closer, his face tight. “Keith,” he whispered. Without another word, Keith uncrossed his arms and intertwined his hand with Lance’s. He felt the unsettling constricting of his chest in a muted manner; Lance was panicking. Keith squeezed his hand and stepped closer, so their shoulders touched.

“We’ve been fighting this war for years now,” Shiro said. “You were all young teens when we first formed Voltron. Now you’re all adults. It’s time we end this and go home. War is full of risks. We need to do this. We won’t ever have a better shot.”

“The rebels are in,” Matt said softly, squeezing his sister’s shoulder. “We’ll fight for the sake of ending Zarkon’s reign.”

“The Blade will fight too, obviously,” Floxrek said. “All of us.” He directed his gaze to Keith who kept his eyes on the wall on the other side of the conference room.

Slowly, each ambassador from the planets that formed part of the coalition stood and nodded solemnly. The war would end. That was a given.

Lance didn’t let go of Keith for the remainder of the night.

They sat together, hand in hand on their bed, too restless to sleep despite their exhaustion. “Do you think it’ll work?” Lance whispered.

“I don’t know,” Keith answered honestly. “There’s a lot relying on Zarkon’s forces reacting exactly as expected. One screw up, and….”

“I don’t want to be away from you tomorrow.”

“We’re going to be fine. We’re going to go home, just like Shiro said.” Keith could feel the panic settling in his chest, alerting him of Lance’s discomfort. “And we go back, we can go to the beach you miss. We can eat garlic knots. I can meet your family.” He turned Lance’s face toward him and let his fingers stroke his cheek. He looked into his eyes, wide and frightened. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to end this war and we’re going home. I love you.”

Lance leaned forward and kissed him, wrapping his arms around Keith so tightly, Keith could barely breathe. Although he didn’t particularly like getting so caught off guard, he couldn’t help but stop to relish in how it felt to have Lance’s arms around him. Warm and safe and familiar.

He felt like home.

They spent the night clinging to each other, like even their subconscious was aware of the danger that was to come.

Keith was supposed to go with the Blade’s group of people to infiltrate the base and deactivate the alarms and sensors. After that, they were supposed to take out as many guards as they could, to clear the path for Matt and another rebel to come in and shut down communications with the fleets of ships and Galra batallions. More groups of rebels and Blade members, both on foot and in ships were supposed to attack then, allowing Voltron clear access to Zarkon and Haggar. If they could take them out, everything would be over.

Before leaving, Lance pulled Keith aside and hugged him tightly. “Be safe. Please, be careful. I love you so much, and I want you to come back.”

Keith hugged him back just as tightly and burrowed his face in the crook of his neck. “I love you too. Don’t worry about me, it’ll just distract you. Look at me.” He pulled back and put his hands on Lance’s cheeks. “I’ll be careful. But you need to be too. I want you to come back to me too.” Lance nodded. “Focus. We can end this war. I’m so happy I found you. I love you.” Keith kissed him and had to force himself to pull away. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Lance nodded and squeezed his hand. “Go kick some ass, _mi rey._ I love you.”

Keith kept his eyes on Lance until he had to get into his pod.

The pod reached the Galra base quickly, settling just beside a landing strip. Another Blade managed to clear the entrance for the rest of them. Once each member had boarded the base, they slinked through the halls with Keith at the front. Despite being a 23 year old grown man, he was still the smallest Blade, and that also made him the stealthiest.

As he checked around one corner, he found a series of guards waiting in front of a door. He held up his hand in a fist then opened his palm three times to tell the others there were guards coming up. He looked back at them spread his fingers- spread out- then clenched his fist quickly- attack.

They nodded and Keith went out first, throwing a dagger at the nearest guard, satisfied when it sunk deep into his chest plate. The other guards reacted quickly, and the rest of the blade members rushed after, silent and with purpose as they dismembered the guards and

When they were all down, one of the members managed to break the door open, allowing them all to file in. Of course there were more guards.

It was like they were waiting. These were actual Galra, not robots. They could have gone out when they heard the guards thumping to the floor. And since when do more than ten Galra soldiers stand guard in a room? Keith found himself relying mostly on instinct and impulse as he fought. There were plenty of soldiers, and he knew he was known as a former paladin. It made him an immediate target.

Keith managed to dodge weapons and hits, managed to slip between small spaces to turn and attack a blind spot. He felt something slice his arm and cried out in pain.

Despite the prickling feeling spreading through the rest of his arm as blood trickled down his bicep, Keith kept fighting. He’d long ago learned how to fight with a blade in either hand. Once they’d filled the room with the salty stench of iron and blood, Keith and two more Blades stood guard while another rushed to shut down the alarms and sensors.

Keith wondered why those hadn’t been triggered by one of the many soldiers that had been in here.

Once the deactivation was done, they left the room and moved forward, scouting the halls. Keith kept one hand pressed to his cut while he wasn’t fighting, trying to stop the bleeding. He prayed that Lance wouldn’t worry. He should know Keith could take more than a stupid cut on the arm.

Finally, he heard the familiar, sloppy steps of humans. Matt came rushing in with another rebel leader, both armed with long range bows. “The others are in position. Voltron has a fleet distracted just outside the radius of communication.” Keith nodded and felt the familiar rub of nonexistent blisters on his palm as Lance worked the levers of his lion for movement and attacks.

Matt ran with Keith to the control room and set to work on the tech with a touch of Keith’s hand to the screen. “Matt, this is… too easy.”

“Easy?” he scoffed. “There’s nothing easy about shutting down communications. I have to breach all the security before managing to reach the main database and-”

“Not your tech stuff,” Keith snapped. “This whole thing. This mission. There was only one hall with guards, and then the alarm room. That one was filled with soldiers waiting for us. They didn’t even bother with sounding an alarm for intrusion. They knew we were coming.”

“That’s impossible. We only found out last night. The only way-”

Keith suddenly fell to the ground, gripping his foot in agony. “Ow! Fuck!” he gasped. His eyes widened. “Lance is hurt.”

“On his foot? But he’s in the lion!” Keith grit his teeth and stood up. “Something’s up. The only way they could’ve known we were coming is if they were warned, which means-”

“We have a mole,” Keith snarled, still wincing at the pain spreading its way up his leg. It felt like he shouldn’t have been able to stand on it, but it wasn’t his injury. “Which means we don’t follow the plan.”

“Going rogue. Nice. Here, let me help.” Matt untied a bandana from around his neck and wrapped Keith’s arm, allowing the cloth to put pressure on the wound and act like a Band-Aid. “So what? If they know the plan, what can we do? We already did what we’re supposed to in the first place.”

“We jump ahead. Voltron isn’t going to Zarkon.”

Matt’s face went slack. “Keith-”

“Are you in or not?” Matt took a deep breath and gulped. Then he nodded and stood a little straighter. “Let’s go.”

Together, they made their way through the halls, bringing down soldier after soldier with an arrow, a dagger, or the right twist of the head.

Zarkon was alone with a single soldier, staring out of a clear window to the turmoil below. Keith only had to throw his knife to let it sink into the back of the emperor’s neck. But then Keith felt the numb pain of something slicing his cheek and he couldn’t help his gasp.

Zarkon and the soldier turned, one prepared with a long sword. “My, my. Ahead of schedule, are we?” He tilted his head forward and the soldier raced forward, tackling Matt down. Keith rushed forward, throwing his dagger. Zarkon sidestepped it easily, gripping both of Keith’s arms behind his back without any struggle. “Don’t you want to see your friends before you die, red paladin?”

Keith took a sharp breath, trying to keep the pain in his foot and face at bay while he dealt with the very real pain of Zarkon’s grip. He didn’t even want to correct Zarkon.

“I’ve had plenty of time to analyze the pilots of the Voltron lions,” Zarkon rumbled on. “I know the strengths. The weaknesses. Just look.” Keith’s eyes were drawn to where the lions lay, dented and steaming. The bright armor of the paladins stood out against the dark, metallic armor of the Galra soldiers.

“The green paladin. Smart and tactical. But that makes her predictable.” Keith watched as Pidge’s bayard was taken from her, it’s electric current doing nothing to the soldier as he tugged her forward and smothered her into the ground. He saw her face contort into a scream.

“The yellow paladin. Strong, resourceful, but slow.” Keith watched Hunk getting knocked down by five soldiers. It took five soldiers before one finally gave him a blow that made him lay still. Keith was certain he heard Pidge scream his name from where she struggled to keep from asphyxiating from the arm around her neck.

“Your precious princess Allura,” he snarled. “Nimble, quick, and good at fighting whether its near or far. But what use is skill at the hands of magic?” Keith saw Allura fighting the witch, using her whip to knock her off balance. But Haggar was hardly fazed as she duplicated herself again and again, confusing Allura’s attacks. Then Allura was wrapped in a purple light, squirming, but unable to do anything as she was lifted and shocked. He could hear her screams too.

As Zarkon moved on to Shiro, he realized he couldn’t see Lance anywhere down there. He wasn’t fighting. And yet, as Zarkon pointed out the uselessness of Shiro’s fighting when his own robotic arm was torn away from his body, Keith noticed Galra soldiers dropping without being attacked. He watched them fall to one side mid run, watched them freeze as their weapons clattered before plopping over and creating pools of blood. Panicked, he searched for the source.

There. Just behind the black lion. Keith could see the faint image of Lance’s legs from where he hid just under one of the wings.

“And let’s not forget Voltron’s most valuable sniper-” Zarkon’s words ended in a gargle, and Keith was aware of the sound of something sinking into flesh. He turned and found two arrows shoved deep into Zarkon’s neck.

“That’s for my father,” Matt hissed. Keith stepped away, staring in horror. A sword’s blade erupted from Zarkon’s chest, dripping with blood. “That’s for the rest of the universe.”

Matt stepped aside as Zarkon fell back and landed with a lifeless thud. Keith noticed the soldier a few feet away, head tilted at an unnatural angle, leg twisted under his stomach where he lay on the floor.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

Matt didn’t smile. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t acknowledge the speechless praise. Before Keith could say anything else, he felt a very sharp, very sudden pain shoot through him from the middle left of his back to his right hip.

He shrieked and crumpled to the ground, unable to breathe, seeing white because the pain was so excruciating it may as well have been his own. Matt fell to the floor beside him, but Keith shoved him away, dragging himself back to the window, desperate to see. He searched for Lance under the black lion’s wing, but he wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t have to look far.

A blood trail led his eyes down the side of the lion to the floor where Lance was on his back. He was twitching, and his blaster was too far from him.

“ _Lance!”_ Keith shouted as he slammed his fists against the window. “No!”

Ignoring the pain in his middle, he rushed out and through the maze of hallways and stairs to where he could hear the sounds of shouting and war. He didn’t even care that he was exposed and weaponless. He just needed to reach Lance.

A plasma beam grazed his already injured arm. A sword managed to nick his side as he ran. A bullet shot through thigh. None of it stopped him. None of it mattered.

He went to where Lance laid, too still to keep Keith from panicking. He fell over him, turning his face to look at his eyes. They were unfocused. He didn’t react to Keith.

“ _No!”_ Keith hauled him into his arms and shook his head. “Lance? Lance, baby, answer me. Look at me.” He laid him back down and began compression and mouth to mouth, knowing that Lance’s lack of response had nothing to do with that.

He wasn’t aware of the clatter of weapons around. Of the group of Blade members that had carried Zarkon’s mutilated body out to the warzone. He wasn’t aware of Zarkon’s dead body being dropped to the ground for everyone to see. The battle died around him. The war was over.

But Keith wasn’t aware of any of it. He wasn’t even aware that his wails and screams were the only thing that could be heard throughout the battlefield.

Lance’s body was getting cold. The body that had kept him warm countless nights was becoming stiff and icy. Keith ran his hands through Lance’s hair, leaving a trail of blood along his forehead and hair. “No, no, no, you’re not dead. You’re not dead, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay, baby.” Keith held him tightly, barely able to breathe.

The pain he felt was subsiding. That was good, right? That meant Lance was feeling better.

Keith pressed his lips to Lance’s praying for a response. “Lance, wake up, baby. You can’t pass out right now. Wake up.” He kissed him again and let his eyes rake over his face.

It was pale now. His eyes weren’t bright. They remained open, unblinking as he stared at the sky above them. His lips remained parted. He wasn’t breathing.

Keith felt nothing.

Another heartbroken scream escaped his throat as he wailed for his soulmate.

***

It had taken Shiro, Matt, and two other rebels to pry Keith away from Lance’s dead body.

Hunk was dead. A third of the rebels were dead. Over half of the Blade was dead.

Everyone else was injured. There wasn’t a single fighter that had remained unscathed. Everyone had a wound to tend to. Pidge had suffered a concussion and a broken arm. Allura had yet to wake from her electrocution, but she was breathing. Shiro had lost his prosthetic and had another deep gash along the side of his face.

Keith was also tended to, but if any of the poking and prodding hurt, he didn’t feel it. He hadn’t felt anything. Matt remained at Pidge’s side, comforting her as she mourned he death of her best friends.

Keith couldn’t bring himself to shed anymore tears. He felt hollow. Empty.

Nothing.

A few days later, in the midst of the reconstruction of the universe, Shiro told him they’d found the infiltrator.

“Floxrek had been on the mission that got Kolivan killed. He’d been assigned by Zarkon years ago. The plan itself had come from Zarkon to align with his own.”

Keith could only blink in response. But then they’d brought Floxrek up for a trial for the ambassadors to discuss his punishment. As if there were anything he deserved more than death. He’d been taken to a holding cell where Keith found himself one night.

He hadn’t slept, and often spent the night walking around the castle. Usually he found himself at the window where he’d first found Lance all those years ago. But this time, he was here. In front of Floxrek, a leader he had trusted. Keith kicked him awake.

“Ah, the human,” he hissed. “What do you want? An apology? More praise on your fighting?”

“It’s your fault he’s dead.”

Floxrek rolled his eyes. “Please. Most of them would’ve died regardless.”

Keith felt an emotion for the first time since he found Lance. And it was rage. Pure, unadulterated rage that he didn’t know how to sate. Although he had an idea about where to start.

The next day, the ambassadors found Floxrek laying in a pool of his own blood, his own dagger sunken deep into his heart, his face bruised and bloodied.

A week later, Keith and the remaining others were back on Earth. The dented scraps of the lions had been brought to Earth and set up in a museum dedicated to the galactic war. Keith had been there when it first opened. As a frontline fighter, he had been the first admitted along with Shiro, Pidge, and Matt.

Keith walked over to the lions where they had been arranged into a sitting position, with a hologram of the fully formed Voltron in the center. Keith went around to each, read the inscription placed at the base of each lion. The qualities of the pilots destined to fly the lions, a small bio about those who had piloted the lions, and a picture of the pilots.

The black lion had two pictures- Shiro and Keith. Zarkon was mentioned, but had “been denied a picture to pay respect to the millions who died fighting the war against him for the universe’s protection.” He went around to the green lion which had the picture of Pidge and the original pilot. Then to the yellow lion, where even looking at Hunk’s Garrison picture had made Keith’s stomach churn.

He went to the blue lion where Lance and Allura’s faces looked back at him. They’d used a picture of Lance in the Garrison due to lack of recent ones. Keith gulped and moved on to the red lion.

Three pictures for this one. Alfor, Keith, and Lance. Keith allowed his fingers to ghost over Lance’s face as he held back his tears. Without another word, he moved on to the next exhibit. It was an exhibit on each of the final paladins. He saw a hologram of Allura, Shiro, Pidge, Hunk… and Lance.

He stepped in front of Lance’s, which stood at his real-life height. He had that crooked smirk that had made Keith laugh countless times and eyes that could never do the real ones justice. Beside him, in a glass container, was his bayard in the form of his blaster. Another inscription.

_Lance “Sharpshooter” Charles McClain: Known for his flirtatious ways and unwavering loyalty, the pilot of both the blue and red lion excelled in accuracy and precision during combat. With skill akin to military snipers, McClain had saved his team several times using his bayard which morphed into a blaster. According to war survivor accounts, this brave man who had taken his role at the tender age of 17, ended his legacy by doing what he was best at- sniping. He was shot down at the final battle of the Voltron War known as the Battle of Betrayal at the age of 22._

Keith stared at the inscription, fighting the urge to yank it from its wooden podium. Lance was known for far more than that. He was known for his ability to defuse a situation, for his quick thinking, for his ability to bring the team’s spirits up. He was known for having a big heart, for loving unconditionally, for being selfless. For being brave. Sniping wasn’t what he was best at. He was best at facing his fears, encouraging others, and loving Keith. Lance was more than this stupid square could ever fit into a few overzealous sentences. Lance was more. He was so much more.

It was too much. It was too much.

He fell to his knees and began to sob at the feet of the hologram.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and his instinct told him to shove it away and assume a defensive position. But when he turned, he found himself staring into familiar blue eyes filled with tears. He blinked and took in the rest of the person.

A short woman with unruly brown curls and a round face lined with subtle wrinkles. Beside her was a man with Lance’s jawline and similar eyes, but his hair was salt and peppered. He was tall, the tallest of the group. Then there were the teens and a few other adults, one with a baby in his arms.

Lance had talked about them so much, Keith felt like he knew them each personally. “Erica,” he whispered as he looked at the woman in front of him. She nodded, a tear escaping and catching in the wrinkles of the bags under her eyes. “Ricardo,” he said looking at the man. He nodded as well.

“You’re the guy from the pictures by the lions,” one boy said. He looked so much like Lance had when they’d first met that Keith had to step away from him. Miguel. He simply nodded.

“Were you friends with Lancey?” a woman asked with a slight accent. She had sleek black hair, a single dark freckle on her cheekbone. If Keith recalled correctly this was Laura, Lance’s older sister.

He gulped, not sure of how Lance’s family would react to Lance being with a boy. He felt the urge to reach for Lance’s hand for reassurance. “Yes,” he finally answered.

“Were you more than that?” Ricardo asked, eyes regarding Keith curiously.

Keith’s breaths came quicker. He didn’t want to deny Lance. He was already gone. All he had left were the memories of their relationship. With lips trembling uncontrollably, he whispered, “Yes. Soulmate.” And just like that, he was sobbing again, gasping for breath, hiding his face in his hands.

Arms wrapped around him and Keith found himself leaning into Lance’s mother.

“I felt everything,” he sobbed. “I tried to wake him up. He was s-supposed to c-come home. I couldn’t-”

“I know, I know,” she responded, her voice shaking. Two of Lance’s sisters came forward and hugged him too. Then Lance’s brother. And then his father. Until the entire McClain family was surrounding Keith, crying and whimpering.

“None of this is fair,” Keith choked out. “These plaques, these fake memories, they aren’t the truth.” He ran a hand through his hair.

Erica took his hand and gripped it with a strength Keith didn’t expect from a woman her age. “Why don’t you tell us the truth, then? Hm? You can tell us all about him.” Her lower lip trembled as she looked at Keith.

Slowly, he nodded.


End file.
